


water like a stone

by casrial



Series: If I Should Die [3]
Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:28:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27143851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/casrial/pseuds/casrial
Summary: What would Father and Sister say?
Relationships: Chang Wufei/Duo Maxwell
Series: If I Should Die [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/13334
Kudos: 7





	water like a stone

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place between chapters 9 and 10 of If I Should Die, and was originally intended to be the prologue to the sequel. Contrary to the plans of a well-intentioned author, the sequel has some very definite ideas about what it should be, and this only marginally fits with the themes emerging there. So, here you go.
> 
> I don't know what would happen if I tried to tell a story in a linear way, and it doesn't seem I'm liable to try.
> 
> Internalized homophobia is a bitch.

At five o'clock on Christmas Eve, Duo put on his nicest shirt, pants, and boots, brushed his hair, washed his face, and sought out Wufei. Wufei was curled up with a book on the couch in the study of the study on the second floor of the residential wing of Peacecraft Manor. Since Relena and Heero were in the room as well, Duo gave Wufei even odds for actually reading the book instead of just fighting the urge to stare at Relena. Some day, Wufei's hero-worship would no longer be funny; until then, Duo tried not to be too obvious about his amusement.

"Going out for a bit," Duo said, and gave him a kiss.

"Hn," Heero grunted, and put his book down. "I'll get my coat."

"Where are you going?" Wufei asked. "Would you like me to come?"

Duo shook his head. "I'm going to mass. You just stay in where it's warm."

"I'm going to have some hot buttered rum in a bit," Relena told Wufei. "Ever had some?"

Wufei shook his head. "You put butter in your rum?"

"This is Earth," Heero said stiffly, both his fascination and distaste for the entire planet obvious. "They put butter in everything."

"We'll be back in a bit," Duo reassured Wufei, and kissed him again. "Enjoy your butter."

The tradition started years ago, during the war. It had been a rough couple months (be honest, Duo told himself, the rough went all the way back), and when the base fell Heero and Duo had pressed their skinny 14-year-old bodies into a storage closet on the second floor of Our Lady of Sorrows cathedral, breathing as slowly and quietly as they could through dust and paranoia. Two days later it was Christmas Eve and they were still in the church, prowling through corridors to steal juice and stale cookies from the Sunday School rooms. The sun set in a cold, red blaze that night, and the parishoners arrived for the evening mass. Heero thought tactically it was a brilliant idea: slip into the congregation, leave with the crowds afterward, and OZ would never be the wiser. Duo had sat on the hard pews, face tilted up toward the cross while a woman with sad eyes cut the stillness with O Come, O Come Emmanuel. Duo had clutched the back of the pew in front of him and closed his eyes, and for a moment he was back in Maxwell's Church, with Sister playing the organ and Susie Mae, the musically gifted teenager who attended Father's services, singing along. At the time, he'd marveled how a song that called people to rejoice about salvation could sound so sad.

"We should come back next year," Duo had said afterward. Heero grunted in response, but Duo thought he must have liked the escape plan, because the next year found them in another church.

Four years they attended various Christmas Eve masses, and Duo felt his heart crack a little each time; although Duo was sure Heero couldn't help but notice, he steadfastly ignored it. Duo found Heero's discomfort with emotions comforting.

They took the least conspicuous car and Heero settled behind the wheel easily. Duo wondered how he managed with all the chauffeurs and aides and assistants; Heero was never happier than when he was in control of his own destiny. "You know where we're going?" he asked.

Heero grunted an affirmative. "Got a place picked out."

Duo nodded and stuffed his mittened hands under his thighs to help keep them warm as he watched the scenery pass outside. No snow yet, but the dead grass was icy-stiff, white from frost. Duo missed the comfort of the colonies and the regulated temperatures, the regular rainfall scheduled to keep the plants watered and the air adequately humidified. There were things about Earth that he loved: mountains, the ocean, the taste of Earth food; all these things were irreplaceable, inconceivable by those who had never experienced them. But life on Earth was unpredictable, and Duo preferred the security and surety of space-life.

They wound their way through the city until they came to a parking lot, and from there they followed the crowds of well-dressed people heading toward church. Heero pulled his hat further down on his head, eyes shifty toward the crowd, and Duo thought his paranoia was unnecessary. Without Relena, Heero looked like just another guy. At the large wooden doors, Heero stopped, crossing his arms.

"Meet you here after," Heero said, his inflection not quite a statement, not quite a question. Duo nodded in response and headed in. It was likely, Duo knew, that Heero would be making some last-minute notes on security concerns for his wedding. Not that Heero ever left anything to last minute, but he always had liked to study his notes before a mission.

Duo trailed behind a family with three squirming children, and finally slotted himself at the end of a pew next to an elderly couple.

"Are you new here, dear?" the woman asked him. "Roland and I know practically everyone, and we've never seen you here before."

"Never," Roland agreed.

"I'm far from home," Duo said.

"Visiting family?" the woman asked, tutting. "And yet you're here alone!"

"All alone," Roland agreed.

Duo gave his most affable smile and turned to review the paper bulletin outlining the service. "My boyfriend isn't religious." Duo didn't think of himself as particularly religious, either, but he recognized the importance of traditions.

The older couple was quiet for a few breaths, and Duo looked up to see them giving each other uncomfortable glances.

"You poor dear," the woman said as the organ began the prelude.

"We'll pray for you," Roland said.

* * *

It took Duo until halfway through the homily to puzzle out that they had offered to pray his gay away. He steepled his fingers in front of his face and rested his chin on his thumbs as he watched the priest talk about the miracle of the virgin birth. It struck him as kind of funny that, for all his crimes, it would be sex with Wufei that got the offers of prayer. He wondered if Roland and his wife could see his list of sins, would they still think his soul was worth praying for? Would they find enough left saving?

His grin faded a little as his thoughts turned to Father and Sister. He knew Father wouldn't've approved of his part in the war; they had several conversations about it. "Murder isn't the answer," Father had said once. "The sixth commandment from God is, 'thou shalt not kill.'"

Duo had rolled his eyes. "People are dying out there. You're sayin' this God character wants we should all just lay down and let them kill us? I'll kill anyone who threatens my friends. If you ain't standing up for your family, you ain't worth standing up for."

Father had rested a hand on Duo's head and said, "'Blessed are those who are persecuted for the sake of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.'" He smiled slightly as he said it, but his eyes were so sad.

Duo hadn't brought it up again.

They'd even touched on stealing, though only briefly. "The Lord our God commanded, thou shalt not steal, Duo," Father had said after catching Duo pulling cookies out of a package from the bakery down the street.

Duo had unabashedly stuffed a handful in his mouth. "If God ain't hungry, well, great for him, but I'm starving."

Father had smiled. "I won't let you go hungry, child. Next time, just ask." He winked. "Sister is also very fond of cookies. She would be happy to purchase a package to share with you."

But discussions about sexuality had never come up. The church said it was a sin, after all--just like everything else. Duo supposed this was why God sucked: God had all these arbitrary rules and then set people up to fail them. Father had always made it seem real, like a code of ethics to aspire to rather than a strict series of standards to fail at. Ultimately, it was just easier to believe in the failures of people than in the grace of God.

"Amen," the congregation said.

* * *

Despite the uncomfortable revelations, the ritual of Mass was soothing: the readings, the carols, the homily, the cup and the wafer. Duo left in the mess of people, his muffler wrapped around his nose and mouth, his gloved hands firmly in his pockets. Heero fell in step next to him at the bottom of the stairs, and they walked back toward the car.

"Feel better?" Heero asked on the way home, speaking as if by rote.

Duo smiled to see Relena's influence. "For the most part. Finish your wedding preparations?"

Heero's face twitched.

* * *

That night, Duo crept through the door connecting his room to Wufei's and poked Wufei in the side where he lay. Wufei made a sleepy, grumbly noise, but flopped to the other side of the bed. Duo crawled into the warm space behind, laying his head by Wufei's and feeling Wufei's breath ruffle his hair. Wufei snored softly, which Duo suspected was the result of a combination of hot buttered rum and the bottle of prescription muscle relaxants sitting in their shared bathroom. 

(When Duo had asked about the muscle relaxants back at Tienen, Wufei gave a sketchy reply and offered a blow job, which Duo took to mean he didn't really want to discuss his medical issues, thank you very much. Duo liked the softness of Wufei's lips, and the rare brush of stubble against his inner thigh as Wufei dipped down, taking him deeper. Duo liked to watch Wufei's lips redden from the slide of his cock, enjoyed the surprising sight of his own dick disappearing between the press of Wufei's lips, the wet feel of the roof of Wufei's mouth and the strong grasp of his hand around the base of his cock while Wufei licked and sucked. Duo liked kissing Wufei afterward, the bitter taste of himself still on Wufei's tongue, around his gums. Duo liked the small gasp Wufei gave when he slithered his hand down to bring him off in return.)

So Duo let Wufei keep his secrets, because Duo liked sex. Duo lay close enough to smell Wufei's hair, rested a hand on his rib cage, and thought about Father and Sister. What would Father say if he could see him now? Had Sister ever suspected he was a queer? He was pretty sure he was going to hell if he fucked Wufei or not, and his stupid cock stirred in interest at the thought because they hadn't done that yet and Wufei was asleep and he wasn't ready to initiate that conversation.

There is nothing right about me, Duo thought. There is nothing Father would approve of. There's nothing left of Sister's little Duo, with his big eyes and plaited hair. Times like this made him wish he'd saved the braid, or at least left himself with something. Father and Sister were his moral compass, his values. He swallowed, listening to Wufei breathe. Would they like Wufei, he wondered? Would Sister offer to have Duo's boyfriend over for dinner? Would Father smile fondly at Wufei, because he made Duo happy? Or would Sister smile politely and suggest Wufei head home for dinner, while Father gently offered to pray for him?

Duo could easily, so easily, imagine it going either way. He felt the air go in and out of Wufei's chest. Ultimately, it didn't really matter what Father and Sister would have thought of him, or of Wufei. It wouldn't make any difference.

Somehow, though, it made all the difference.

**Author's Note:**

> "In the bleak midwinter, frosty wind made moan,  
> earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone;  
> snow had fallen, snow on snow,  
> snow on snow,  
> in the bleak midwinter, long ago."
> 
> \- Christina Rossetti, "In the Bleak Midwinter"


End file.
